Wakeup Calls
by Floopygirl
Summary: Sam's hogging the blankets. Fluff, SJ


Title: Wake-up Calls

Pairings: S/J

Spoilers: none

Rating: some sexual content

Disclaimer: not mine

A/N: For some reason I screwed up my grammar totally while writing this. I am so grateful to Shiny Silver Girl for sorting it out for me – thanks sweetie!

* * *

Jack lay in bed, shivering slightly at the feel of the cool air on his back and shoulders. He'd been tugging on the blankets for the last five minutes or so but with no success: for someone who liked snuggling so much, Sam had a thing about sharing her covers, as in she didn't. Ever.

He'd never really thought that he and Sam would ever reach a point where they'd be spending time together outside work, and found living with her to be not just satisfying but an eye-opener. He loved seeing how befuddled she was when she first woke up, and kissing her when she'd just woken up, and laughing at the various disasters they created together in the name of cooking, and did he mention how much he loved kissing her just after she'd woken up?

He'd been in relationships before and was familiar with the inevitable infiltration of his home by unfamiliar objects, some terrifying and others merely bewildering. (He still didn't understand why women would use eyelash curlers, or how they manage to do so without pulling all of said eyelashes out. Did they really think men noticed, anyway?) But while he had prepared himself for finding tampons in his bathroom cabinet and for rolling onto stray hairbrushes in his bed, the volumes that appeared in his bookcases came as something of a shock. The reference books on physics and computers weren't entirely surprising, but seeing tomes on ancient Egyptian history gave him the scary feeling that he was moving in with Daniel. That definitely wasn't imagery he needed.

In a similar vein, his house was now tidy and his cupboards reorganised. He had to give her credit for the transformation as now that he'd retired he spent far more time at home than she did, and when she was home he was invariably attentive (clingy) and concerned (demanding) and generally not too keen on spending their time together doing housework. He half-suspected that she'd been getting up in the middle of the night to clean up after him but that seemed a bit too crazy, even for Carter.

Even though he was no longer at the SGC, work had a habit of creeping into their lives. While Sam always listened quite happily to his musings on... well, anything really, he still had to sit through 'discussions' of black holes or quantum physics. Actually, that wasn't entirely fair – she never discussed anything as 'simple' as quantum physics, but it all went over his head so he was never entirely sure what she _did_ talk about. And she still forgot to call him Jack on occasion, which simultaneously charmed and infuriated him.

But, though he'd never say it (and half-hated himself for being sappy enough to think it), just being with her was enough. The casual touches, the eye contact she no longer avoided, kissing her first thing in the morning... Yup, he had a thing for Carter morning-breath. Weird, but true.

He tugged on the blanket again, only for a hand to flail into his chest in protest. No, she definitely didn't like to share and he knew that if he didn't give in gracefully she'd wake up and he'd have to deal with Cranky Carter. Of course, he'd always had a soft spot for seeing her openly crabby – it makes a change from that 'sir, you're an idiot' look that used to be her only way of showing her annoyance with him, back in the day. Not that that happened very often – once or twice a week, tops. Honest.

It finally occurred to him that there was only one way he was going to get the blanket back so he gritted his teeth and snuggled up to her, kissing her bare back beneath the covers and rubbing gently at her shoulders. She sighed and leaned back into him; taking that as a positive sign, Jack continued with what he was doing. Gradually her muscles tensed up slightly, a sure sign that she'd woken up.

"Hey you," he murmured.

She rolled over and looked vacantly at him, blue eyes fogged with sleep. He wanted to run a hand through her sleep-ruffled hair and rumple it a little more, but knew from past experience just how little enthusiasm such a gesture would receive. "Wha?" she asked.

Jack enjoyed seeing her inarticulate almost to a ridiculous extent – sadly, first thing in the morning was the only time he got to enjoy the sight. Or almost the only time. He leaned forward and kissed her thoroughly, sliding his hands down from her shoulders to her waist and then to her ass for an early-morning grope. Sam made an adorably breathy sound in the back of her throat and he figured this was his chance. He grabbed the blankets and yanked them, pulling the wool over his back, even though he had warmed up somewhat.

Sam pushed at his chest so he eased away, albeit reluctantly. At least she was still half-asleep and hopefully not yet awake enough to deliver that patented 'you're going to die horribly' look, though he was sure that it wouldn't take long for her to be back in fighting form.

"Was that why you kissed me?" she demanded. "Because _you_ like to hog the covers?"

The accusation left Jack almost speechless – she was so cynical! – but he recovered swiftly.

"I thought you'd prefer a gentle wake-up call," he protested. "It makes a nice change from that blaring alarm-clock of yours."

Sam eyed him, not fooled for a second. "It's Sunday."

Since there was nothing he could really say in his defense – except that he loved kissing her in the morning, but she knew that – he slipped a hand round to her stomach and then lower, feeling her gently. Jack could see the inner conflict she was having between indignation and acquiescence, but finally her face relaxed and she arched her back slightly, moving against his hand. He smiled and brought his other hand up to her breasts, cupping one firmly.

"Stop smirking!"

Her eyes were closed: how did she always know? He gave up wondering, deciding it was one of those women things he'd never get, and leaned in to kiss her. "Morning Sam."

Her lips curved and then tightened as he slipped a finger inside her. "Morning Jack."

He was finally ensconced under the blankets. She was calling him Jack. Life was perfect.


End file.
